A Born Loser

So, I was born from Seoul, South Korea on August 10th, 1979 at 6:53 AM. My biological mother gave birth to me without any prenatal care due to Korean Conservative Family traditions. She was 16 years old when she had me, you see, and I'm half Korean, half Chinese, so my biological father was a Chinese Business Man whom was a friend to her immediate family. Which comes to the question was I an accident or born from rape? That'll come into another time to tell that story since I know from what an old nurse from the adoption agency in Korea had told me. So, from how I came into this world is how I started my loser life. Not that I AM a loser. I try not to be, but under life's circumstances, it's how my story begins.

A couple of times before I was officially adopted, I had 2 couples that wanted to adopt me, but unfortunately, those 2 couples had changed their minds and wanted a boy instead. The only couple that had officially adopted me was my American parents, Stewart and Jeanne from Minneapolis, MN and once it was official, I had traveled with one of the care takers to my new home on April 17th, 1980. To me, if I had 2 birthdays, it would be that date.

So, moving on, I arrived in Minneapolis and my parents picked me up from the airport and I was only a small baby at 8 months old. The first place I went to after I arrived was my new Grandma's house, my dad's mom, Leslie. Even though, I don't remember much of what my arrival was, from what my parents told me and from the polaroid pictures I have, I remember having a huge smile on my face. Plus, I was tired, too. I had traveled all over the world at that time and it took me 2 days to arrive in the United States.

During my times as a small child, I had dealt with other issues of heartbreak and it sucked that even my parents didn't care or acted passive aggressively. It was being molested by my dad's former best friend and co-worker, Bryan. My folks were going out to the Carlton for a night out and they had left me in the care of Bryan, whom was a drunken, mental nutcase. I was 2 years old at the time. He had too many to drink and while I was laying in my crib, Bryan had popped in a VHS tape. And it was gross as hell. It was a video of him and some old freak at a remote cabin, fucking a little boy who was screaming and crying in pain. Bryan had picked me up from the crib, tore off my diapers, and started to molest me and to this day, I wished that memory was wiped out of my mind. He hurt me and I had cried in tears. Later, minutes before when my folks came back from their date, Bryan had rushed to slap a new diaper on me and grabbed me by my pajama shirt that if I told anyone, he'd kill me. To this day, I hope that no good child molesting motherfucker is rotting in hell. It was the day that started my trauma.

As I got older to when I was 4 or 5 years old, I had dealt with my first encounter of racism, which I didn't know what exactly racism and bigotry was or what the meaning of racial slurs were. I had another kid from the neighborhood call me a dumb chinky at the school bus stop. I was puzzled after being teased and name called. When I got home from Longfellow Elementary, I asked my dad what a 'Chinky' was. Of course, the first red flag was my parents didn't give me an answer nor didn't want to answer at all. Honestly, I didn't fully understand behind the meaning of racism up until I encountered it again when I was 15 years old in High School. It sucks when you encounter something so painful, but don't even realize it up until you finally understood what racism is. My parents made the mistake of not informing me.

Growing up and going to school, I had no friends, whatsoever. Not one kid wanted to be friends with me. In fact, I had a couple of kids calling me abandoned and ugly. It really hurt when I felt all alone. A lot of people, nowadays, assumes that I was very popular and had glorious amount of friends back in the day just by looking at my Facebook. HA! I wish I was. But sadly, the reality was, I had nobody. And of course, with my folks telling me that the outside world isn't safe, they were the only ones that cared about me. But funny way of showing it or lack thereof. When I started grade school, I started to endure the worst case of bullying. At that time, there was no big percentage of Asians at school. It was mostly all white and maybe 5% African American kids. Myself and another classmate whom was Hmong were the only kids at Wenonah Elementary.

I just remember every time I was bullied, I had to make sure that I didn't show that I was crying because I would be picked on even worse by the other kids. So, most of my young childhood years, I just rode my bike around the block a few times alone. I had one neighborhood kid that I at times, hung out with, but the rest of the neighborhood kids wanted nothing to do with me. They felt they were too good for me and all I was to them was an abandoned servant to my parents. This was my childhood up until I was 19 years old. I've been a loner in all my life and an easy target for bullies cause I was too nice and naïve. The only thing that mattered to me was needing a friend and not being so lonely.

There were even times that grown adults treated me like total shit and very loserish. During 4th grade, my teacher, Mrs. Fredulend, would make me fall asleep in class and told me if I didn't fall asleep in her class, she would flunk me anyways. My parents didn't even believe me or cared after I showed them my report card. The only moment when they started caring was when I showed my Grandma, Leslie, my report card. My Grandmother on my dad's side was my best friend. She made my parents march into Wilder Elementary and confront the staff what the hell was going on. When they had the confrontational meeting with the staff, my teacher marched in and immediately called me a cheater in front of the staff and my family. My Grandmother spoke up and said, "Why on earth are you calling my granddaughter a cheat?" To which the teacher replied, but stopped herself, "Because I make her fall aslee-," She admitted that she was the problem all along. Not me. My parents and grandma THREATENED the Wilder staff that they would sue them for gross negligence. Can you blame them? The only time that they fought for me was when my grandma pushed them to help. Honestly, they were my only family, but at most times, didn't care like they should've. Out of my family, my late grandma was my only family. Not my parents.

If anything that helped calm me and not feel so lonely like I usually was with other people was music. If my mom wasn't a big music lover and listener back then, I wouldn't know what music is and I wouldn't be the person that I'm trying to be today; a musician. At that time, we were poor (and not so poor) back in those days. My folks were on welfare, growing up, but I remember my folks getting "nicer" things that was beyond their means. My folks claimed it was from my dad's lawn mowing and snow shoveling, but I highly doubt that a supplement of $25-50 dollars for a couple of neighborhood yards would be enough for a decent stereo system, TV, and cable. So, a good majority of my childhood consists of wearing big headphones and sitting on the floor, listening to my mom's vinyl records. If I hadn't had any music in my life, I wouldn't even be here today. I would be dead from suicide. As sad as this statement sounds, it's a damn fact. My life wasn't peaches and cream or all princess like. I wasn't even a spoiled child back in those days. As a kid, from the age of 6 to 35 years old, I would help my dad with the outdoor maintenance. So, in case you were wondering what kind of kid I was. Not a rich, spoiled brat that always screamed, "GIMME GIMME GIMME!" that some people peg me as for being the only child. Even those days, I had this thing that we responsible adults like to call, "Self-control."

When the late 80s, early 90s came into picture, I was 9 years old during the time I discovered my own identity within music and how to cope with the bullshit we call life. I attended Holy Name Catholic school cause my mom is devout Catholic and insisted that I go to that school because even as a kid, I was smart enough to sense that organized religions were SHIT. But my mom insisted that I became a Catholic like her. So, I went, but immediately hated it so badly. Everyone had to dress in the school uniforms and I hated wearing skirts. Eww, I thought skirts and dresses were mighty stupid looking. So, anyways, to continue on, one day in class, our teacher fell sick and left us with a substitute that wasn't fully doing her duties. She stepped out of the class for a while and left us with the A/V set. We had the UHF channel on and we discovered a channel called, "The Jukebox Network." We could call in a 900 number to order music videos. The rest of the classmates wanted New Kids on the Block and Paula Abdul videos, so they would use the phone inside our classroom and order videos. All them poppy shit that you hear on KDWB or what I would call it, "K-DWEEB." But the one video that had changed my life forever was when Mother by Danzig came on. It was the original 1988 uncut version. When I saw it, I immediately was in awe. I sat at my desk with my eyes glued to the Television. The other classmates, to no surprise, hated it. In fact, I think it gave them nightmares the moment the singer, Glenn Danzig, ripped the chicken apart? It was the door opener that I solely needed. Since then, I discovered a lot of good music that would help catapult me to my goals - being a singer in a rock band one day. If being a musician would help me make others adore me, I would work so hard to accomplish my goals cause I hated my life being a loner and having nobody showing me love or appreciation. Even as a pre-teen, I was sick of the loneliness and shunned by others. If people are wondering why I'm so bitter to this very day, I've been pushed side and alone for a very, very long ass time. And still feel the cold-shoulder attitude from others who aren't very genuine at all.

Going into Middle School a.k.a "Junior High" is when the real bullying starts. It's one thing to be constantly called hideous or ugly, it's another when other classmates in a new school physically starts berating and assaulting you. I've had kids spat on me, tore up my backpack, shove me, punched me, and kicked me when I was down. I couldn't take it during my first year of Middle School. And as if the staff at Anthony Middle School would help me, instead, I was judged by the social worker and I was told that I had no future other than being a stupid housewife or servant. I've never felt so humiliated by a cranky old fuck stain adult, literally talking down to me like I'm nothing. It was that moment where enough was enough. If my folks wasn't gonna help me in any shape or form, I would take matters in my own hands, even if it was the wrong approach. So the following year when I became an 8th Grader, it was time to fuck shit up and didn't care if the bullies tried bullying me again per usual. I just wanted to do crazy shit in front of people, not just for attention, but to let the other students know, I can't take their bullshit no more.

So when 8th grade started and at that time was when my dad's health problems started to arise, I started listening to more metal music, started to wear all black, and announce to the whole class, even the teachers, I was a Satanist. Not that I was truly was, but I said it just to get a rise and shocking reaction to myself. Didn't care if people pegged me as a poser or a nutcase or both, I started to bang my head against lockers just so other little fuck heads would leave me alone because I made myself look like a psycho. Looking back at those days, I cringe at my bad actions because the thing was I WASN'T thinking. I just had enough of life's bullshit and if it was a phase, whatever. I just had too much stress happen: In my family life and at school. After 8th grade was close to being over in the Spring time, I had almost missed my graduation because my dad had Esophageal Cancer surgery. And the school almost 86'd me because I was wearing Iron Maiden metal shirts that was too Satanic and inappropriate for school, which was beyond stupid. High School years were almost approaching and I couldn't wait to be done with Anthony Middle School for good. But as they say, when it comes to my life, the fun never stops and neither does the bullying.

When high school started, 9th grade was kind of okay, in a sense. It was a new school year and new school territory. I went from Anthony Middle School to Southwest High School. Some of the kids were open to me and I felt like this was unexpected and welcoming. It felt really nice to have others be so open minded towards me and at one point, I thought, "Wow, this is great! I have friends finally. They like me. They truly like me. Boy howdy, was I in for a rude awakening! The following year when I became a Sophomore, the same kids that I hung out with last year now hated me for some unknown reason and pegged me as a stalker. How? Why? I had no one from those group of kids ever giving me a reason why things had changed. Then it hit me, some of the kids from Anthony Middle School had told those kids to not be around me because I was pegged as a desperate poser. It killed me inside that I had been betrayed by the very same kids whom I thought liked me. I felt so hurt and heart broken. This was my first experience of what would become the rest of my life - being fashionably ignored by the masses and keeping their distance without a reason and without closure. It just hurt me so back in those days. I was young, stupid, and naïve to believe I made friends and truly didn't. It was very heart breaking. I'm amazed when looking back, I hadn't had the nerve to kill myself because I never ever dealt with so much pain. Loneliness is one thing, dealing with flaky faker kids who pretended to be my friend but truly was humiliating me, is a whole different monster. And to this day, it's still happening, but the only difference is I know now when and who is real and who is a phony easily. I guess experiences in life, both negatively and positively, gives you that sensory of when to open up to good, down to earth folk and when to guard yourself from being hurt again by fake people.

It even hurt me and felt loser like worst when I had my first crush break my heart. No, at the time, I didn't know what a boyfriend was. I just assumed it was a boy and he was your friend. Not adding the privileges of making out and shit. And I didn't know what sex was really or what intimacy entailed. I didn't know how to react to that kind of relationship honestly because I never experience that kind of relationship before. But there a was guy at school that I had a HUGE crush on and I never ever told a living soul because it may come as a shock to all since I'm the sign of Leo - where they're typed cast as the center of attention and shiznit, I like my privacy kept private. Anywho... to continue on, this guy wowed me and one day, I bravely went up to him and introduced myself, thinking that maybe if I acted boldly by introducing myself, I would gain a new friend. Sadly, he laughed and said in front of other students in the hallway nearby, "Sorry, I don't date Satanists! Go away, you ugly, slant eyed loser!" Can you say, "OUCH?" After that fiasco, I ran into the girls bathroom and just started crying because my first crush had literally crushed me in the worst way, too. And if being rejected by a guy you had a crush on was bad enough, it's worst when the mean girls come in and laugh at you, calling you a cry baby loser. I was kicked below the belt by my first crush, then kicked further with the mean girls egging on you. The whole school now thought I was an ugly, slant eyed, cry baby, satanic loser that was desperate for a friend. Man, did that hurt. And to add, considering in the news regarding Social Media platforms such as Instagram is THEE worst for insecure girls, I'm very very happy and LUCKY AS FUCK that there was no such thing as Smart phones and Internet and Social Media during the time that I attended High School. If those things were in existence, I'd more than likely would kill myself and I'm not kidding about that, either. When reading stories about teen suicides and cyber bullying in existence, yeah, I'm damn lucky that we didn't have that technology in the early to mid 90s. The internet only started in 96-97 and during the late 90s, it came into play at our school library. When Netscape and AOL ruled the world, I suppose? Luckily, cyber bullying never happened to me while in high school.

So after graduation and my days at High school was over, I was a free woman. I didn't know what to do with my life or what the future looked like for me, but even my time in school from Kindergarten to a bit of Community College thus far was such a dead end and had no one, except my grandma, to give me any kind of guidance to build a better future, I was gonna try my best to live my life to it's fullest and try to build a road path to some goal that would put my life at ease. From the time I graduated from Southwest in 1997 to 1999 (I believe?), I worked at my first few jobs that introduced me to a level of rejection that I never dealt with before ever. Meanwhile on my days off, I had met Matt Bachelor, from Morticia and All the Pretty Horses through a City Pages Ad and he introduced me to the music scene in Summer of 1997. So for awhile, I would help out bands at the Merch Booth and it was the time that I came into the picture of the local music scene. The very first job I worked was at Halloween Haunt 3 at the old Camp Snoopy in the Mall of America or what I like to call it, 'THE MEGA MESS.' It was temp job, obviously, but didn't last because the over dramatic, theater teacher from hell didn't like me. She fired me. First job, got fired. Oh boy. Next, was working at the Mann Theater in St. Louis Park. Again, management didn't like me. Got fired again. After that was Mystic Lake Casino as a beverage server / attendant. It was the job that changed my life, in a way. I, along with my mom, applied and got our jobs. My mom worked as a casino floor janitor and I went to Food and Beverage as the beverage server. From the time I started until maybe around a little after the new year, was when I lasted. And it wasn't on my part. Mystic Lake had Administrators that were so power hungry and controlling, it was insane. At one point, one of the new admins, Naomi, hated me and did EVERYTHING in her power to get me fired because she hated me. And it was like, 'Oh great, High School was happening all over again, this time, in the work front.' And it was a terrible time for me during that Thanksgiving year. My Grandmother and my only best friend who had helped me for so many years during school years had sadly passed away from colon cancer. She was my rock and poof! She was gone. I cried for days that she was gone. I felt then life was just hopeless for me. Right before I was terminated at my job at Mystic, I had met Pete, the guy who became my first boyfriend. He worked as a security officer at Mystic. He and I would mess with each other, friendly like where he started to grow attached to me. It was to a point where Pete got close and took the initiative to ask me out. I told him I would think about it because I was guarding myself from getting hurt. When New Years Eve came around and I remember working like a dog then because it was so busy, Pete was working as well and he was at the podium desk underneath the confetti cannons. So when the countdown began, I told Pete that I would be his new girlfriend and we became official when it was officially 1999. It was the first time in my whole life that I had my first relationship with someone.

So, when 1999 rolled around, and during the month of March, it was the one of the many tragic moments that happened to me. And Deja fucking Vu, all over again, it brought back old memories from the past that almost literally destroyed me as a baby. So, in late 98, I made a friend with a guy named Mike. And I was never interested in him at all, whatsoever. I didn't think he was really attractive or had any taste. But he was interested in me. And when I told him that I officially got a boyfriend and told him that we can still hang as just friends, he didn't take that well. So, later that night, I stayed up late at night, doing the laundry in the basement while my folks were asleep. I had bad insomnia, so I was such a night owl during my younger days that I stayed up the whole night and slept all day. So, I'm doing laundry and playing music on my Walkman when all of a sudden, something hits me from behind and I had passed out. When I came to, I saw Mike on top of me and my pants ripped off and I was a virgin, so having that dick face taking that away was the worst moment that happened to me. My mouth was covered and he said that if I continued screaming, he'd kill me and my parents upstairs. And if that moment was bad enough on getting raped and getting your virginity stolen away, it's worst when your rapist starts stalking and harassing you, following you around EVERYWHERE I went. I couldn't get out of the house and had to locked all the dead bolts on the doors for my own safety. My folks thought I was making it up and it had hurt me that my own parents thought I was joking. I wasn't. I even had to take the phone cord out because he would constantly call and call and call. And when you're a victim of rape getting victimized again and again by your rapist and NO ONE, not even my own family or my new boyfriend, Pete, didn't believe me, in which, by the way, should have been a red fucking flag, it was FUCKING HELL. The horror was over the moment my folks decided to move out of Minneapolis and into Shakopee in Sept. 2001 because I had convinced my mom that we need to be closer to work. So it was a victory, however small, for me. You'd think it would've been easier for me to get a restraining order after getting poked and prodded at the hospital for a rape kit, but when you got nobody to believe you and your parents tell the police that nothing happened, even though there was BLOOD EVERYWHERE IN THE BASEMENT, what was there for me to do? I felt nobody was in my corner at the time. I was totally alone. But on the bright side, I got away from my tormentor that had made my life a living hell for years.

So after my time at Mystic was over, again, being naïve, I got sucked into the whole pipe dream of 'College will get you a career for your future.' Again, boy howdy, another rude awakening. Back when I was going to Wilder Elementary, the art teacher, Mr. Williamson, there offered me a chance to attend to a decorated art school for special kids with the artistic talent of drawing and sketching at a young age. Of course, at that time, my mom turned that dream offer down for her stupid dream of having me being a devoted Catholic and going to Catholic School. It was very selfish on her part to destroy something that could get me boosted in a career as an artist and given me a better life as an adult. Maybe even making better money owning a gallery one day. But nope. Never happened. So, fast forward to 2001, I discovered Brown College, the same place that had the specialized, Le Cordon Bleu and Radio Broadcasting major. They just made a new major for people who wanted to be a Graphic / Web Designer as a career. So, I decided to sign up for their Graphic Designer program, just to give the school a chance. Honestly, I wished someone would've talked me out of it before making that final decision cause this was the school where I graduated, but ended up with no GD career and a huge bill to pay the student loans and fucked up my credit since. Ugh, period. And if that wasn't bad, my relationship with Pete went from bad to worst.

When our problems in our relationship started, Pete surprised me when during our first Anniversary, he gave me an unforgettable present. At that time, I thought it was jewelry of some kind or something that I would dig. I opened the box and saw a strap on dildo. I look at him puzzled, "Like, what the hell is that?" He said it was a toy for him and I to enjoy. I looked at him, continually puzzled, saying, "Uhh, you already have a dick, you don't need to give me that when can use your.... oh." That's when I stopped myself and it immediately dawned on me that he meant it was a toy to be used on HIM. I was like, 'Whoa, dude! Seriously? No.' I don't hate or judge gays and bisexuals. In fact, if you know and let YOUR partner know from the beginning that you swung both ways, I wouldn't of acted in a shock like I did. But no, I refused to partake in fucking my boyfriend up the ass. Can you say GROSS!?! Yeesh. After that moment, things fell downhill and had to deal with the stress of him not coming to see me as much as he used to anymore, I had to go to him all the time. He avoided my calls and stopped taking me out on dates like he used to when we started dating. That's when I found out, he was a cheater. One night, I came over to Pete's trailer, he was living with his dad, Butch, at the time and when I opened the door to his room, I caught him fucking another dude. It was the VERY first time, I felt a new level of betrayal and rejection. He not only was he forthcoming about his sexuality, he went behind my back, picking up both men and women, INCLUDING his so called "friend" LuAnn. I was so badly hurt that someone whom I thought cared and loved me so would betray me like he did. Our relationship lasted from 1999 to 2002. I was the one who had dumped his ass for betraying my love and my trust because I couldn't take the pain anymore. His lies and cheating ways made me realize that you can't openly trust someone who has proven, BY ACTION, that I meant nothing to him. All the love and loyalty I gave him was all wasted away. And if the betrayal wasn't bad enough, sure enough, I ended up getting blamed for turning my sneaky ex into a gay man. Unreal, right? My fault. That's funny as fuck now and so irresponsible.

So, maybe a month later after I had came out of my first bad relationship, my friends from school and a friend I met during a show at Ryan's, his name was Dave or what everyone else called him, 'Stigma Dave,' invited me to come with them to Inver Grove Heights for a big metal kegger party at the Inver Grove Armory. So, to cheer myself up, I had dressed myself up in a latex Dominatrix Dress, carried my riding crop that I got from Matt's ex, Phalen and a pair of real handcuffs, and wore really really high platform shoes that had a 7" heel and 3" platform. You would've swore that I was walking on stilts, which I kind of was. But I guess, when you meet people in the local music goth scene and meet fellow BDSM people, you'd wanna experience something different. But I just didn't want to be the door mat this time like I was in my younger years with normal (abnormal) conservative people. This time, I wanted to be large and in charge. So, I was ready to have fun and forget about my breakup. I came there to enjoy beer, metal, and throw a scene that people would never forget. And it was a moment that had brought me happiness in my present life.

We arrived that evening to the Armory and I was amazed how big it was inside. Like, I never seen or been to a party before. But it was amazing for me to be there. Met many people and bands at the show and a funny moment, I got so wasted on beer that while drunk, I was hitting on a police officer and wanted to use my handcuffs on him. Why I did that, probably, just being fucking drunk and funny, but had no memory of it until they told me the next day what had happened. But when I came in, wearing what I wore and starting to feel lively, I took the crowd by storm. I even found chicks that was willing to participate in having me grab their hair and start spanking them with the riding crop. So, as I'm walking and having a dude with a camcorder recording and following my every move, which was funny, I grabbed this guy from the crowd out of nowhere, put on a leather tie on him, and started to have fun with him. Later to the present life, this guy would become the main love of my life and a part of my family and world for almost 8 years. His name is Vim and he was a DJ for Black Flood Diesel. Not sure if it was the beer or whatever, but I thought he was cute as hell. But sadly, I heard some dude yell out to him, "Yo Vim! Where's Michele at?" When I look back, I wished that I gave my now current boyfriend my number then, but would things be different up to now? I don't know. But at that time, after being in a toxic and untrusting relationship for 4 years with Pete, I got scared off. Had I known sooner that he was in the same boat as I was, where our partners were toxic assholes, I would've went home with Vim. Not even caring about the past or his soon to be Ex. But as a woman who respects other relationship boundaries and myself, I decided to chose not to. Even though, it sucked. Kind of funny how life works in mysterious ways, huh?

During the 2000's, I would see Vim at various shows, and bumping into him and his ex, Michele at the Club Urban Wildlife one night, even boldly asking Vim to give me a lift home because my dad was my go to ride back home, but at that time, my dad would fall asleep and not answer the phone. Luckily, he answered but only when the bars closed at 2 in the morning. So, anyways, I had met the woman that her name had stopped me from pursuing something with Vim back in the day. And she didn't like me one fucking bit, even though, it was first time meeting her. And during the early to mid 2000s, I used to take a cab to the cities because Shakopee was 30 minutes away from Minneapolis. That and I didn't have a license or a car to drive. Didn't get my license to drive until I was 26 years old. I'm what you call a late bloomer in life. Everyone gets their first car and license to drive during Driver's Ed Class in high school. Not me, though. During school days when my folks was on Welfare, we were too poor to do any extracurricular activities or buy things out of our means (bullshit). And plus, getting my license later in life is great, lower rates on the insurance because anyone under 18 years, gets the worst high rates. But once my mom started working her 2 full time jobs, including a job promotion at Mystic Lake and working as a baggage claim at TSA that had almost killed her for the lack of sleep, we had the money to go out and do things that we ever dreamed of, such as going on European trips and tours. It was fun. Never traveled outside the country before, so it was a real treat for me.

So, to get back to Vim and his ex, Michele, yeah. She hated me, boy. I guess someone from that kegger party must've told her about the shenanigans that happened (but didn't happen further), and pointed me out as the other woman floundering with her ex boyfriend. Okay, nothing really happened, it could've, but didn't. But she ended up being a total psychopath anyway. So her getting pissed and hatred for me was absolutely pointless when she ended up messing around behind Vim's back. By the time their relationship was over, he disappeared in the scene for a long while, doing his own thing and it was a shame, because at that time, I wished I gave him my number and we could've kept contact. But later on, I'll tell you why at times social media is a great tool for reconnecting long lost relationships.

I was bumming that Vim left for awhile and had no way of contacting him, but didn't blame him for leaving because I ended up finding out on my own that a lot of people in the scene were nothing but fakers and phonies. As I mentioned before, I ended up having the knack of gaining the sense of reading people like an open book and being right 99% of the time. While going out to numerous local shows, I had gain a love for music and wanting that old life long goal to be in music somehow. Whether if it was behind the scenes as a booker or becoming a singer on stage. But finding people who wanted to be dedicated was like a damn hard scavenger hunt (and still is). You'd think that asking people for either advice or guidance on how promoting a show works would be easy, but sadly, here in the Twin Cities, asking for help from those in the promo music biz was like pulling teeth with these motherfuckers. Even to THIS DAY, it's still like pulling teeth to work with dedicated people. You'll have lightning strike hitting you before you get any help or any respect out of people in the music scene. It shouldn't be this way at all but this is what happens when you live in an aggressive-passive State.

From 2004 and on, it wasn't easy on putting my foot in the door of doing music stuff. Especially when people that "work" in the industry doesn't give you either the time or day and they look at you as an nuisance freak. One of the "promoters" thought I was a nut and wanted nothing to do with me. Which was weird cause I was being cool with her. Some motherfuckers are just plain strung out on dope and paranoid as hell. And others were just sleazy as all get out. It was like, "I'll help you be a promoter, but you must do a favor in return." I stayed far away from those creeps. It was like those dumb asshole pimps saying, "Baby, we'll make you a star. Now bend over!" I wanted nothing to do with those people. Again, as a woman trying to put her foot in the door and trying to work behind the scenes was not an easy task when you have a bunch of sleazy old creeps in the scene. So, in conclusion for me at that moment, working behind the scenes was out and I didn't have a job or money back then at the time to try to start on my own. So, what was the next best thing? Try to become a singer and gain some stamina and confidence with my voice. And for months, I would pop on either a Misfits or a Danzig CD and start singing along to it. Honestly, I didn't learn by going to a vocal coach. I felt that listening to Danzig or some blues music was my vocal coach. And in 2005, I took the initiative to practice on my singing, even going to the Goodwill thrift store and buy a cheap electric piano to practice with. Learning melodies and focus on my breathing. I even tried to get my first band, which was when I first tried on getting The Bleeding Light off the ground. Again, as before, finding dedicated musicians was like pulling teeth. And the fellas I tried to get together ended up firing me because if this was gonna go down, they wanted a 'male' front man. Not a woman. It's a laugh that those guys now have a female front woman in their own rendition of The Bleeding Light.

So after one failure after another, I tried tried and tried again. When I was trying to get Serpentina off the ground, it was a bitch because one, I had no place to practice, two, finding a bassist and drummer was still a bitch. I had a situation where I found a bassist and a drummer that we're brothers, but the bassist, Scott, was a controlling dick. Because he felt that if he owned the studio, he can call the shots and even tell me and Jason, the guitarist, we sucked. Not really constructive criticism when he tries to run the show when it was MY band that I was trying to form. So, I gave up with Serpentina. Thinking that I'm not gonna have my own band ever. That's when I met Todd, my next guitarist that tried to help me. He invited me to sing some vocal tracks and we recorded The Third Order. He was amazed with my voice and said that he was open to start a band. We called it The Dark Prodigy. I was ecstatic that Todd was serious and again, it was no easy task, but finding a bassist and drummer was not easy. However, I went forward and borrowed some cash from the folks on getting a studio at the old Kooler Sound Studios off of Fairview and University. So, I was in a better sitting that I had a studio and possibly another band because we started with one original song and got it recorded. We just needed a bassist and drummer. I ended up putting a music ad in the local City Pages paper and online on the ol' Myspace. But I realized who I could ask cause I remembered he was the bassist for Impaler. Erick Allyn. So, I went to see Impaler play for their Halloween show at Station 4 (formerly Ryan's) and gave Erick my number to see if he could try out. The following week, he called and we had lunch together, talking about possibly having him as the new bassist. But he declined, saying that his hearing was stopping him from playing. But was still willing to be of assistance. So, we kept hanging out to the point where we grew feelings for each other. For the longest time, from the time I broke up with Pete in 2002 to 2006, I was a single gal. I've dated here and there, but I'd preferred staying single because I needed time to figure myself out. And Erick was the first older man I dated. He was 17 years older than me.

So, while I was trying to get Dark Prodigy off the ground and now found myself in another relationship, my focus was to get the band off the ground, so that I could go and make money than just being the average dolt on getting a shitty job with shitty pay as my parents wanted. But things within Dark Prodigy was going disarray with Todd and his mental state when he started to go absolute AWOL and he skipped a lot of band meetings to the point where he just called it quits without warning and without a word. That's the moment where Dark Prodigy was done. From 2006 to 2008, I had done no music and nothing was accomplished. And my insecurities were starting to show early within my new relationship. I had to get out and do something with my life or else, I would be doomed to find myself in limbo and no future. It's hard from the time growing up to the adult stages that you have to figure out what you want to do or end up in life. To succeed somehow and make a name, image, and build a reputation when nobody knows who you are nor cares of your existence. It was not easy and I was starting to feel jealous and envious of Erick when he went back to Impaler and stepping in as bassist cause the other guy, Commander Court had an injury to his wrist. It wasn't fair because he's doing what I wanted to do for so long. So one day, either on Facebook or Myspace, I see an open invitation to be a stage dancer for the band, Harsh Reality with Tempest and Jendeen (former members of All the Pretty Horses). I gave it a chance and said to myself, "What do I got to lose?" Messaged Tempest and Jen and said sign me up. My first Harsh show was on Halloween Night at the Stones Throw Bar in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I slayed it that night and the band was impressed, but Tempest suggested strongly to up my game on my props. So that's when I started to do custom gas make crafts by using old gas masks from the Army Surplus and create some form of Mad Max inspired look. So did my homework and watched the Road Warrior and Mad Max movies. Created killer mohawk gas masks for stage presence. One of my proud moments as an artist.

My career with Harsh Reality went from 2008 to 2010, it was really a joyous experience, but I knew I wanted more, and when my dad's health went from bad to worst, I had to throw a local charity show for my dad and had asked Tempest and Jen what they thought about it. They both were cool about it and Tempest gave me advice on when to have it, in order to get more people. Well, I asked Station 4 about booking an event there on the weekends, but they only had Monday or a Thursday open. So, Station 4 was out. Tried other venues, including VFW or American Legion, since my dad was a former U.S Coast Guard. But those two were out. My final place to give it a shot was Club Underground. They said Saturday was open. It was a go! It took me a couple of weeks to get bands together and putting together an auction. There was perks on dating Erick, when talking about the music scene and working myself into the door, you meet and network with people, whether in the booking field or at music shops, etc. I was fortunate enough to befriend the people at Capitol Guitars. They were generous enough to give me a guitar for the auction and all bands and performers signed it. I worked very hard to get this show together and others noticed my tenacity and for the first time, I got the respect that I worked my ass off since I came into the scene back in the late 90s-2000s.

I decided that I wanted to sing at the show because it was something that I wanted to do for a very long time. So Erick and myself had visited Matt Batchelor, since he lived down the road from Erick and asked if his band, Vicious Violet would be a part of the show, adding that I would sing as a guest vocalist for one song. Matt was down, but he said let's do 2 songs, having Erick playing bass and Marko (the guitarist) sing The Cult's Wildflower and I sing Mother by Danzig. So it was settled! I had got my bands and I was gonna sing on stage for the very first time. Was I gonna be nervous or have stage fright knowing that this is what I wanted to do for a long time? Not even. For being up on stage as a dancer with Harsh, I gain confidence where being on stage was a breeze, as if I was a natural. I loved and was hooked with the adoration that I received from the crowd. It only made me want more adoration. But my career with Harsh was over in 2010 and my last show with Harsh was at the Rock in Maplewood, which is now the Bulldog.

When my dancing career with Harsh Reality was over, from 2010 till 2013, I still had no career, no money, no band anymore, and was worried on my dad's health since he had several small strokes and landed in the hospital. Throughout 2005 to 2012, I was jobless and refused to find a job because of the numerous rejections of jobs I applied for. I even had a fat bitch at Forever 21 tear up my job application. Ain't that a kick in the pants and punch in the gut? I was never great at the typical 9 to 5 jobs back then. And it was absolutely stressing me out, while at the same time, I was more focused on music more than anything in this world. But with my dad's health declining and my relationship, I just said, "Fuck the world!" with my middle finger sticking out. I pretty much had enough of life's bullshit.

When Spring 2012 rolled around, my relationship with Erick was done. He and I had irreconcilable differences and a different outlook on what a relationship entailed. It was ugly at first when we had broken up because I was again hurt by rejection from somebody I cared about, but it turned out that we were better off as just friends because after awhile when I settled with the reality that the relationship wasn't working, he and I talked it over for a long while and once I told him where I was coming from, we both got closure from it and healed on our own. I wasn't happy with the fact I was single again, but realized that I needed to heal on my own and stay single as long as it took just to find happiness from within. In the meanwhile of taking care of myself, I took care of my dad while my mom was working 2 full time jobs. And it wasn't easy nor pretty. Dad ended up staying in 3 different hospitals for the next few years and it was a struggle for my mom and I with my dad's health declining this rapidly.

While my dad's health continuously declining, I needed to take my mind off of the situation and focus on where my power was - my voice and seeing about finally getting The Bleeding Light - a Danzig tribute band that I wanted together years ago and in the summer of 2013, I accomplished it. I had bumped into an old classmate of mine from the Brown College Days and told him my idea, but said needed members. At first, my classmate tried out as a bassist, but no offense to his playing, but he wasn't good. But had a drummer, which was an accomplishment at that time because in my experiences on putting a band together, drummers and bassists were very hard to find and still is to this day. Especially in a State or town where musicians, DEDICATED MUSICIANS, were very hard to find. But in August 22nd, 2013, Danzig was playing at The Myth in Maplewood, and me and my drummer, Chris attended to the show and met with Ben Crew. His band opened up for Danzig at the show and we met him at the merch booth, told him about our band and that we needed a bassist asap. He volunteered to be our bassist. And we were lucky to get Danzig's blessing on getting The Bleeding Light together. It was the best night of my life when that happened and since we had a new studio in St. Paul and had a set list of songs that we wanted to, ranging not only in just Danzig songs, but also Misfits and Samhain. Ben had amicably got us our first gig at the Memory Lanes Bowling Alley on September 30th, 2013 and I was getting anxious and excited about it. But in order to make the show good, I did a lot of inviting and shameless self promotion of our upcoming gig. Meaning, made all the fliers, announcements, and even networking at local punk and metal shows. Somehow I had a strong feeling that this first show would catapulted me as a vocalist.

While networking online and getting the show organized, I saw Harsh Reality had changed their lineup and saw they had a new singer and new guitarist. During that period, I had recognized the new members, Nick, of course from Flat Atom and Vim. I decided to reconnect and Vim's name was quite familiar. When you lose a connection for a long period and reconnect years, while they were gone for a long time, you tend to forget because all that time and space, you're busy with your life and trying to get shit off the ground, career and future wise. I ended up forgetting about Vim and once he and I reconnected with each other on Facebook, and he gave me hints on jogging my memory, the minute I saw him face to face again, and seeing the leather tie that I gave him years ago that he wore that night Harsh played at Neisen's in Savage, old feelings and memories came rushing back to me. Unfortunately, I ended up not staying at the show because our family had one car to share and my mom's shift was almost over, but I invited Vim to my band's first show at Memory Lanes in Minneapolis because I wanted him to see me perform for the first time. So it was very important for me because when he first met me, I was a nobody; just a music fan that went to numerous shows and he was already long since established as a hard working musician with other bands, even before my time since he's only 10 years older than me. I felt I needed my musical presence known. Not that many people knew that I could sing, powerfully. I needed as many people as I could invite on a Monday Night.

On the night of my show, before our set even started and we opened up the show, I could feel my nerves getting the best out of me. No, again, I didn't have stage fright because I already had confidence with my experiences with Harsh. I saw a lot of people coming in and it was great to see good friends and people there. Erick was there, a few of my friends, as well. And Vim had shown up, too. I was happy. When our set started, I tell you that once I sang, 'Wolfsblood,' and came on stage for the first time, my voice grabbed the crowd by their balls. As our set continued, the sound monitors gave us issues, for a little bit, my heart dropped at that moment. But as we continued on, we still killed it on stage and I showed a powerful side of me to the crowd that I never showed before. Not even when I was dancing with Harsh back in the day. But when set was over, I had gotten so much love and adoration, more than I ever gotten before and it wasn't my first rodeo on performing live. After our set, I got to hang out with Vim for a while and finally, after all these years that I never gotten a chance to say how I felt towards him, I had confessed my infatuation with him and kissed him. My confession and that kiss was a pleasant surprise, since he, too, had feelings for me since when he and I first met. But how I was with my previous relationships, where I took a little time before I had made a decision to go for it, I invited him to go out with me on New Years Eve and since NYE, we've been exclusive since. Honestly, I couldn't picture myself being with other people. I felt strongly in my heart and soul that Vim was the man made for me. Since we've been together, we've made a lot of music and written songs together. This is my form of bliss and happiness. To share my love for music, as a fan and a performer, with someone who is the same.

While my band life and now love life was starting to get off the ground in the new year of 2014, my life at home was starting to take a toll on me and it felt like it almost had ruined me during the winter season. I had worked during the day at the Thrift store, while taking care of my dad AND the house where I had now been looked at as a maid or servant to my folks. My mom rather focus on her 2 jobs and not on her husband, my dad, and my dad's brain was starting to show signs of dementia. The house was a constant mess and cleaning it was way too overwhelming for me. I needed an out, like immediately. So, since Vim was living in Maplewood, near St. Paul, I would try and get a job somewhere there. So I saw that Jiffy Lube was looking for people and since my job at the Thrift was becoming too toxic to bear, I had quit my job in Burnsville and get a job at J.L, so that way I would be close to Vim. It took awhile, but finally, Vim had brought me to live in Maplewood with him in July 2014, when I started working at the St. Paul J.L, and I ended up not talking to my folks, pretty much hiding out because I knew my folks weren't gonna be happy that their daughter left the house without letting them know where I was going. Maybe it was bold, probably a dumb move on my part, but when your own adoptive family doesn't look at you as family anymore, just a mere slave to put up and shut up on getting mistreated. Let's face it, my dad's state of mind was gone and he kept messing up the house that I cleaned because he felt it was the only way to get me to stay. Hell, for awhile there, I had to buy my own food to feed myself, instead of buying food with my own money, and be their cook. I had gotten so much toxic abuse and mistreatment from my folks that I seriously couldn't take anymore. It gotten to the point where I just abruptly left. And it really sucks to be the person who has dealt with so much and not letting anyone, not even your new partner know your problems. I felt then and even now, that my problems at home was nobody's business but my own. Nothing against others, but beforehand, I told people about my life and I ended up getting more grief and victimized by others. Not believing in anything that's happen to me. Pretty much, people's immediate reaction showed my life was absolutely meaningless. Just by a cold and judging reaction. It was very hard for me to trust anyone at the point. When I can read people, I read by their actions because it's so much louder than words. So, I felt that even lying to others, pretty much hiding the fact that I didn't want to be judged, that it was nobody's business, but my own to smooth over. I'm sure I'll be judged harshly for hiding things and lying, but look at it from my perspective, if you were in my shoes and if you were embarrassed with the life at home that I was living, you'd probably understand why. It doesn't make me a shitty person. I just don't like anyone trying to judge and assume my life. And during that time, when I moved out of Shakopee and back into the cities with Vim, I felt my life was saved by him and I am always forever grateful for his rescue.

But now here we are, where things had changed. Since the end of 2014, my career with The Bleeding Light was over, and during the time that I would did some recording and vocal tracks with Vim, I would give Vim my support on his endeavors as a musician with other bands that ended up too toxic for him. My dad had finally passed on in October 2nd, 2017 from heart failure. And my relationship with my mother is on its last legs. Sad to say that these changes had drifted me and my family apart, but I felt it was for the best because towards the end, nobody was happy with each other. My dad's health and mind declined, my mom rather put her focus on work than helping me with Dad. My family moved out of Shakopee in 2016, after my dad got out of the hospital, and moved to St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin until my dad died. My mom stayed in St. Croix until 2019, when she moved to Woodville, Wisconsin, the place she lives currently.

As for me, I had ranges of different jobs. Since September 2015 and on, I had worked for Impark for 6 years and stayed there faithfully. It's the only company that I had worked for in a long period of time. In the past jobs, I had only lasted for a couple of weeks to a few months. But with the job I'm in now, I had made a good repertoire with Impark until they changed their name to REEF Technology. I'm hopeful that in 2022, I will have the money and the credit to purchase our own place for me and Vim and that life will have so much more to offer.

I've come a long way to try to better my own life and I tell you it is not easy to accomplish. But I do my best to better my life and the life that I share with Vim and our pet cat, Yeggi. To me, Vim and our cat is my new immediate family and that I hope for me and Vim, we can get our goals accomplished in music, and live out our lives without worrying about being pegged as a loser. From my point of view and where I stand today, we're were never losers. We live through the struggles in everyday life. But does that make me a loser? Absolutely not. Does it make my family losers? Absolutely NOT. Nowadays, I don't really give a rat's ass if people try to judge my life or anyone else's because honestly, those who judge others don't or never dealt with life's everyday struggles. In fact, they've got no place in this world to judge or criticize ever. I know where I stand and know that I have flaws and tragedy in my past, but trust me, it doesn't make me a loser. Only heartless and people with no souls are the real losers in life and maybe someday, in this life or the next, they can be better people not only for others out there, but for themselves. In the meantime, as much as life is stressful as is, in general, I know where my heart and soul stands and knows I'm not loser.

I hope that who reads this will have a better understanding of my faults, flaws, and look at my life in a positive light. Peace.